


it's the risk that I'm taking

by hackercatz (tsunbrownie)



Series: you're everything i need and more [2]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: 'i came to this party because my platonic girlfriend begged me to, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Qwerty (Mr. Robot) As a Cat, and now that i'm here i'm gonna break into your room' au, hacker boyfriends !!!, i called this 'school crime au', i would like to thank beyonce halo for letting me bullshit titles, joanna x tyrell is kinda implied but i have a reason for that i swear, that isn't relevant now but hopefully it'd be relevant soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:46:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunbrownie/pseuds/hackercatz
Summary: Even while looking through his countless correspondence with the school, his band, and his girlfriend, he couldn't shake the feeling of - nobody can be this perfect. Everyone has a secret.It felt like an act. A mask he puts up for society.Elliot can't hack Tyrell, so obviously the only acceptable course of action is to come to his party and try to hack him analog. Safe to say, it doesn't go as expected.





	it's the risk that I'm taking

**Author's Note:**

> i know NOTHING about the american school system past elementary school except that it sucks eggs. but then in ours it was legal to hit kids until i went to high school so do i have rights to judge??? No (pretty sure it's still legal to hit kids in conservative areas. school shouldn't be legal it promotes violence) 
> 
> anyways: hacker boyfriends feat. high school. the series are (mostly) all one shot aus so you can,,, read them in any order
> 
> edit : apparently i wrote the poem wrong. never trust your memory. never trust yourself in general. follow elliot's advice. there is a suit man stalking you everywhere so act stealthy all the time and do not write on your evernote at 2am

 

 

 

The party is terrible. Or maybe it's good and _he's_ the problem - the one who can't stand all these children huddled around and laughing like nothing's wrong with the world, sedated and happy. Cauterized. Useless. The only reason he'd agreed come was because Angela recently broke up with that bastard Ollie (good for her, considering the affair with Stella B she found out wasn't the only girl he was cheating on her with) and insisted that she didn't want to be alone, and even she cannot be seen now. Talking to a guy. Or maybe a girl, since she swings both ways.

Elliot pulls his hoodie up, makes himself comfortable in the silent corner. Away from the central attention. He could go home now, but he's worried Angela would get herself into trouble. Despite his discomfort, he is a protector, one in the shadows and unseen. He takes a sip of the drink. In the corner of his eyes, in the spotlight, he spots Tyrell Wellick and his crew. 

Tyrell Wellick.

Elliot barely knows him. The two of them only share a single class, Computer Science, and even then Tyrell's always surrounded by friends, comrades, girls and boys who are most definitely infatuated with him to even glance at Elliot's general corner. It's for the better - Elliot never had even a single incident where being noticed by a cool kid had went well. And Tyrell was definitely that: A cool kid. An influential individual, he'd probably become a politician when they grow up, spouting bullshit and lies to win over the hearts of very people he had to crush in order to stand where he would reach - and that's everything Elliot detests. 

He's also the host of his party, which was why Elliot looked into him before coming here. His passwords were ridiculously easy to brute-force, just his girlfriend's last name and Sweden's independence date - and Elliot had him. Or not quite. Even while looking through his countless correspondence with the school, his band, and his girlfriend, he couldn't shake the feeling of - _nobody can be this perfect_. _Everyone_ has a secret.

It felt like an act. A mask he puts up for society. 

Maybe that's the true reason why he agreed to accompany Angela here, so he could have access to Tyrell's home. Maybe he was frustrated at the display and wanted to get under the teen's skin. If no one's that perfect, it means they've gone through extreme lengths to hide it. He's terrified that perhaps Tyrell murdered someone or something equally horrific, because he can't imagine what would cause this level of paranoia. 

(Or maybe it's Elliot who's paranoid, maybe he's finally gone and lost it, seeing sparks in absolute nothingness, hoping the spark starts a fire that would devour him. He doesn't know. But don't most people that are paranoid not have social media presence, like yours truly, unlike Tyrell, who has layers of layers of falseness painted over his life?)

That question is what drives him into the second floor of the house, hoping he'd find Tyrell's room. Away from the skull-pounding music and the kaleidoscopic lights, Elliot lets out a shaky breath of relief. He didn't even know he had a migraine until now, and the bone-crushing numbness dissipates as he stands in the mostly-silence, only the low-decibel music from downstairs reverberating on the floor.

There's only the dim, subdued light at the end of the hallway providing enough light to not be blind. Elliot, always more comfortable with the darkness over the light, finds his solace here instead of downstairs, slides across the carpet until he reaches the room at the end. He twists it. The door opens without any hesitation. 

He takes in the sight of his surroundings after flicking the light on: pictures of his family and friends in point locations, celebrities, both male and female, covering the empty wall space above his bed, and books stacked neatly across the his bookshelf. It's neat, clinically so, but apart from that, it's difficult to assume a personality from what he's given. Elliot walks forward to observe the books. They're all a mix of English and Swedish, the genre ranging from classics to science fiction, Elliot's biased favorite. Excluding the cleanliness of the place, it’s generic, typical of a teen his age. He’d say there’s almost no personality. Like that SNS he hacked into.

What really grabs his attention is the fact Tyrell owns programming books - and not the coding for dummies! that their joke of a high school attempts to teach. This, unlike anything else in the room, doesn’t feel like tactical placement. He takes it out, flips through the pages. The spines are cracked; someone has definitely read these, and repeatedly. 

The most notable point about Tyrell's room is that there isn't a desktop, laptop, tablet, or any sort of electronics in the room. That's ridiculous - what teen doesn't own a computer in this day? Especially considering that Tyrell can be inferred to enjoy programming from the books, the lack of the device makes lesser sense that it fuels Elliot's set narrative about his paranoia. 

Elliot moves forward to the door in Tyrell's room and it's a tiny walk-in closet covered with clothing. His eyes flick to the assortment of jacket, shirts, watches and shoes that probably each cost more than the entirety of Elliot's wardrobe (not that Elliot's collection cannot be easily surpassed, considering it's just his hoodies.) 

He doesn't know what drives him to search in the closet. Maybe it's because Elliot has come so far to turn back, too curious about why Tyrell behaves as if the FBI and Interpol are after him. He does, and when his hand comes across a doorknob on the wall where the jackets are hung methodically, he feels the high he only gets when he succeeds on hacking another person. 

The doorknob's unlocked, which is sloppy considering how well-hidden everything is, but perhaps Tyrell didn't think anyone would come this far. Not that it would have mattered, considering Elliot keeps a lockpick on his form at all times. He slides into the room hidden from sight, the space that Tyrell Wellick keeps so hidden from the world, feeling both like a child with a new toy and a moth executing itself into the flames.

It’s dark, he can’t see at all, so he touches around the right wall until he finds a switch and flicks it on. And – well, it’s a huge room, bigger than Tyrell’s actual room. The walls are pale white, although the black smears that drip from the wall deter the effects of cleanliness it may provide. There are boxes stacked upon each other in the end of the wall, and they seem to contain gifts, letters, toys from his childhood – locked away from public sight, stashed in a small, isolated room. Of course, none of these don’t really come to his sight because at the center of the room, there is a huge computer. Not the makeshift desktop Elliot uses, but a complex and most definitely expensive system – he notices at least two laptops and three desktops upon glancing around, and there are eight monitors, five of them connected to the main console.

Fascinated, he steps forward to touch the mouse, and five screens instantly light up. Two of the screens show Facebook and email pages of his other classmates, or what he can assume to be them from the age of the profile pictures. The leftmost screen has what seems to be his schoolwork - research on essays, a website detailing on corporatism open in the corner. The central screen shows his desktop, a silent picture of the night sky sprinkled with so many stars. He wonders if that's from Sweden. 

“Do you like it?” A voice interrupts him from behind him, and he jumps because he hears a lilt of accent that could belong to only one person. Fuck. Elliot turns on his heels to face the intruder, hoping it’s literally anyone else, but it is Tyrell Wellick who is standing in front of him, observing him with a carefully blank expression. Elliot swallows dryly, mind working in the speed of light to form an excuse. Tyrell seems to read him like open code. “No need to justify yourself. I just want to know: do you like this?”

“It’s, nice,” Elliot stutters, not knowing what to say. “Didn’t know you were into something like this.” He’s not sure what’s going on. Tyrell’s acting like he knew Elliot would do this – fuck, has he been manipulated? His heart threatens to escape his body, but he wills it to slow down. Panic will do nothing now, especially when his opponent is a vicious executioner of logic. He falls silent, hoping he can pretend he was confused, got curious about Tyrell’s room.

The palpable silence envelops them tightly, and Elliot begins to choke on it, the nerves bundling his coherent thought. Tyrell silently watches him, face still utterly devoid of emotion, and Elliot carefully avoids his eyes, staring at his feet instead. Tyrell takes a step forward, steps into his private space, gently tilts Elliot’s head up with his fingers so their eyes meet. Tyrell is smiling, a big grin devouring his entire face, except there's a hint of mania in them that makes Elliot pause and flick his eyes at the only exit. 

"Fsociety. I know it's you," Tyrell breathes out, and Elliot freezes. Fuck. "All the leaks regarding teachers, the bullies, everything. Firing Terry Colby for that horrible scandal with a student." 

Fsociety. An anonymous, vigilante hacker who reveals corruption scattered throughout the school, is also Elliot's after school curriculum. Not many people know it, only his dad and Darlene and maybe Krista, but Elliot's been good at staying down. Making himself untraceable. Elliot takes in the equipment around the room. Compared to the single laptop Elliot has access to, this is massive, and if Tyrell is as skilled as him under all that glitter –

There's no point in denying it. He can try, but from the glint in Tyrell's eyes it's obvious he's already convinced himself – Tyrell would only return after collecting hard evidence, and if that happens, it could turn ugly real fast. There's something else about that light in his eyes: he appears manic, yet he seems to mean no harm. 

While he wallows on all this information, Tyrell slides forward and turns on the main computer. The screens, five of them, light up simultaneously, all greeting the teen in front of him. Tyrell looks up to Elliot, expectantly, silently demanding some sort of reaction.

"You're on KDE," Elliot comments, not knowing what to say else. Tyrell hums, brings up root command, types a few lines.

The screen completely changes. And in all five screens, instead of innocent articles and writings, are the sins of people around them, the ordinary people and the powerful who walk among them, revealed out for him to see. Cyberbullying. Purposefully gaslighting students. Accepting bribes for recommendation letters. Modifying grades. Hiding potential 'scandals' for the name value of the school. Teachers having affairs with their own students. Prostitution, theft, violence. The material spread out for him to see is massive, a tsunami, he wants to tear his eyes away but he can't, it's flowing all into him, FUCK SOCIETY - 

"Careful there," Tyrell says behind him, and Elliot realizes he's lost balance, that he's collapsed onto Tyrell. He doesn't seem to mind as he straightens him up. Elliot takes a shaky breath, closes his eyes. He feels something tingling in the bottom of the gut, but he squishes it. 

"Why are you showing me this?" Elliot chokes out. He doesn't really understand. The leak on Terry Colby was to protect Angela from his harassment, and the identity theft incident was only brought to the light when he realized the man romantically involved with his guidance counselor wasn't who he said he was. Vera was abusive to Shalyla. 

"I've been seeing - all these horrible things. So many horrible things. The information you're uncovering as fsociety? It's nothing but a brink of an iceberg. I want you - us - to uncover the whole thing. The whole corruption, control and structure." 

Elliot doesn't want to get involved in this. This is far too much, he doesn't even know most of the teachers or students on Tyrell's board - he wants to flee. "I-I," he stammers out, "I'm not sure I can, Tyrell," he barely chokes out. 

"I know you're fsociety," Tyrell leans back on his leather chair, crossing his arms, "I don't have concrete evidence, but I know I'm right, so there's a good chance I may be able to convince the school board that you're fsociety. Y'know, with me being the president, and all? And, well, the damage you've caused is enough for them to expel you, so-"

Elliot's voice rises a whole pitch. "Are you blackmailing me to work with you?" He's panicking. God, he's panicking. None of this should have happened. He should have never came to this party, should have just burned his laptop, tossed the chips in the microwave -- 

He feels himself crumble, the view hazing out, and Tyrell is immediately on his feet to catch him again. He chokes out when Tyrell holds him up so they're looking at each other face-to-face. He seems to be genuinely concerned. Or perhaps that's also acting. Elliot doesn't know. He can't read Tyrell. He couldn't hack him. He doesn't know anything the boy standing into him, his blue eyes patronizing but promising. 

"Elliot," his voice is soft when he starts, "Elliot. I've told you all this for a reason. I want you to trust me. I want to work together with you. I could have skipped every revealing step for me, and told you straight about my knowing of you being fsociety. I didn't do that for a reason." Tyrell pauses for a second, inhales a shaky breath, and continues, "I've caused so many damage. I knew - I knew about all this, but I always thought of these as blackmail material. A method to cheat your way to the top."

"Then you happened - fsociety. And all I could think was -- I knew all you leaked, knew them for a long time now, but I did nothing. Does that make me complicit to all those crimes?" Tyrell's shaking now, and the sureness he had, threatening to work with him, is utterly gone. "so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens. That's - that's the only English my father knew. He used to say it to me because it was the only piece of literature he knew. I hate him, and used it as a memoir of him. Someone who I never wanted to become," there's determination in those azure gaze now, and Elliot cannot look away, "and I realized - I'm being exactly like him. I'm powerful, the school is at my feet, but I realized - I'm still chained down by a morally corrupt system. A horrible system that crushes students and gives teachers powers they never deserved. I want to make it burn, Elliot," Tyrell grits through his teeth, "I want to reveal their hypocrisy and evil to the world. I'm done playing fetch like an obedient, collared animal." 

Elliot skims the information on the board again. "This should be more than enough to incarcerate all of thse people, Tyrell, I'm not sure why you need my help – burn this on a CD, send it to the police," because honestly it seems to be that Tyrell is even more talented of hacking into people than Elliot is, even rooting phones to recover text messages and grosteque photos. Yes, Elliot's talented with a computer, 

"Because I know they won't pay for their crimes properly. Because these people aren't the real fish I'm after. I'm after the Dark Army." 

"The Dark Army is a rumor," Elliot squints. A network of powerful people spread out throughout the city, of course including their own school, morally corrupt and ready for hire at the cost of your own soul. Elliot always found it absurd – far too much a conspiracy theory. Thought nobody in their right minds could believe in something like that. 

Does this mean Tyrell is so deeply entrenched in his paranoia, or that it's purposefully framed in such way so nobody would suspect them? Normally, he would not hesitate to call Tyrell crazy, but the images - images - 

Could have they gotten away with all of this by themselves? These buffoons? These insects? Or was there someone who was looking out for them, out for Principal Price and everyone, or -

_It's not paranoia if it's true._

"If you don't shoot something this massive through the heart, the cancer's going to recover and just take over. Pointless. Our revolution, gone to sham. The Dark Army exists, Elliot, and I can't do this alone. I'm not good enough. But with you - " Tyrell chokes, desperate, "with you, we could have a chance." 

It's ridiculous. Elliot should call him ridiculous, deny all his claims, run home and hide in his bed. Surround himself with the routine of normalcy until Tyrell gets bored, abandons the plan or decide to have his head beheaded all by himself. But this is a chance. A chance to do more than protect the people around him, to remove the root of all evil after all. Even if Dark Army proves to be false, the information Tyrell has will most definitely clean out the school for the better. He flicks his eyes at the student body president, watches him as his cool demeanor has morphed into one of desperation and unadulterated need. 

Elliot swallows. His throat is dry and his lips are chapped. "I'll do it."

Even though he's just agreed to jump into a burning building, Tyrell's rewarding expression is far too beautiful for him to regret his actions. Maybe this will end horribly, just like Shayla – precious one moment, pulverized the next. Or maybe, just maybe, this time Elliot could find someone he can confide to, someone who he can share himself with, someone who'd listen. Someone who will allow him to escape this crippling loneliness that follows him on his feet, threatening to bury him in the endless void. 

He doesn't know. He accepts it anyways because the alternative is so much worse, and he'll eventually come to his demise. 

Tyrell sits down on the chair again, Elliot hovers over him. Tyrell begins to explain everything, about how this all began. Elliot stands, listens, absorbs, and for the first time in a long while, Elliot feels alive for once. 

_This is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship!_

 

**_fin._ **

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> tyrell redemption arc?????????????? THAT CANT BE LEGAL?????????????????????????????? it happened anyways
> 
> this is preslash and if the ending feels like i cut it off way too fast it's because i have a sequel im working on (and theyre gonna actually date on that one!!!) except no promises on when i'll finish THAT one oh god i flunked my exam so bad


End file.
